Forever
by MissMurdered-and-ELLE
Summary: Two brief one shots from alternate perspectives before and after a tense mission. 1x2x1, PWPish but of course with small side helping of angst.
1. Duo

**Title:** Forever

**Authors:** Miss Murdered & ELLE

**Disclaimer: **Despite how many fics we both post, neither of us owns Gundam Wing or have come any closer to owning it.

**Pairings/Warnings:** 1x2x1, gratuitous smut – m/m sexual relations ahead! Also, cursing, of course.

**Additional Notes:** This fic came about as Miss Murdered joked about sending ELLE a "quickie" e-mail and from there our smutty minds devolved over the course of several more e-mails until ELLE convinced Miss Murdered through a series of well maneuvered arm pulls that writing a "quickie fic" based on the boys having a "quickie" was a great idea. Of course the arm pulling is a lie – Miss Murdered agreed immediately and turned this quickie around quickly. ;-P And ELLE reciprocated. (Oh my, that sounds entirely too dirty...!)

Posting both chapters at the same time but separately as they really do belong together as one.

* * *

**Pre-Mission**

"Holy _fuck, _'Ro."

His hands are all impatient and I'm trying to not end up with my camouflage fatigues ripped to shit as he fumbles past the belt and to my dick. I try to move in the space we have to allow him to remove my pants but there really isn't enough room for two damn people in this shitty little bathroom in a Preventer drop ship and I bang my head against the metal behind me as he continues to try and get past clothing, his breath hot and wet against my throat.

I thought, ya know, about one minute ago that we shouldn't be doing this as we are being flown into the heart of the Bolivian jungle to take down drug king-pin Juan Escobar's compound with a fuck ton of explosives and some nifty big ass guns but then he _looked _at me. All he fucking did. That little look that could be a leer, could be classed as his bedroom fucking eyes and I'm now being pushed up against the sink of a tiny bathroom willingly as he strokes my cock, finally, as he seems to have figured out how belts and zippers work. I think about mouthing off a sarcastic comment about that but then I think about not much else as he pulled my pants down enough that he can reach behind me and his hands are now on my naked ass and I can feel a thumb _there _and I'm about to make some kinda protest as I don't wanna be fucked dry when in fifteen minutes I'm being dumped into the middle of the fucking jungle.

"Shhh," he says and then kisses me for the first time since he entered the bathroom.

I don't know why he wants me to be damn quiet considering the entire Preventer team _know _I went to the bathroom and that Heero joined me a few minutes after. I mean, come on, subtle we ain't. And even though we were sat opposite each other, even though I was damn trying to _fucking _ignore him for the good of my sanity and libido, we'd been giving each other those silent signals that might as well have said "let's fuck" in big capital letters across our foreheads.

Hell, I don't care about being quiet as we kiss and he uses the grip on my ass to push me up onto the small metallic sink and I figure out his intention and try to accommodate that but hell, I'm tangled in my pants and I don't think I can get them over my damn boots and… ah fuck…

I feel the first slide of finger and it ain't dry and I don't wanna contemplate that fact – maybe he just knew we'd do this and brought along the necessary precautions but then I sure as hell didn't think we would be fucking in a drop ship bathroom. We'd fucked enough last night, at home, in our bed, like normal people but ah, fucking shit – his finger twists and I suck at his tongue harder – we probably didn't classify as normal and damn, this mission could be a shit storm so I guess if he needs this as a little pre-mission thing, then, fucking hell, I am not gonna deny him. I never do.

I run my fingers through his hair and kiss him harder as I feel the slide of another finger and try not to lose my load as he hits prostate – what can I say, I'm young, I'm horny and I got the world's motherfucking sexiest badass kissing me like I'm his oxygen, like I'm his reason for being fucking alive all while he's prepping me so he can stick his big hard dick into me. Really, I'm amazed I have any damn stamina with Heero. Must be all the practice.

"Heero," I say as I break off from his kiss to indicate that I wanna move on – _now_.

He grunts, removes those fingers, which makes my entire body wanna whine in protest. In fact, I think I make this noise that could be classed as a whine but hell, since he looked at me like that, since he pushed me up on this goddamn sink, since he pulled my pants down as far as we could, all I wanted was him and if I'm a little bit needy, I can take that accusation. After all, _he _fucking started it.

He unbuckles his own belt with a little more accuracy than he was doing with mine and I can see the hard on in his fatigues as he struggles with the zipper and just brings his cock out from his boxers, sliding the material down a little but basically, I'm half naked here and he's just got his dick out.

I'm grateful when he produces a condom from his pocket. I chuckle then as I'm now 100% sure he had planned on this – and at least he's being fucking considerate. I really don't wanna be on a mission with the sensation of cum dribbling from my ass even if it is his. Ya know, really not what I wanna be thinking about when I'm rigging bombs and blowing out communication channels.

He slides it on and I edge myself forward onto the sink and let him stand between my legs. I'd wrap one around him but I can't, being restricted by my pants but hell, this probably won't last long. I feel ready to explode – fuck, it could be the damn forbidden thing of the whole situation, the fact we have about ten minutes until we land in the middle of the goddamn jungle or it could all just be because it's Heero but I feel like every nerve is on goddamn fire as he pushes into me and I try to relax, lean my head forward onto his as he tries to do this more carefully than I expect in this kinda situation. Doesn't wanna hurt me, I guess. But I wriggle my hips impatiently and it's message received as his dick slides all the way in, the mix of pain and pleasure kinda appropriate for the situation. We can do slow and gentle in our bed, we can mouth and lick at every patch of skin when we're wrapped in sheets but right now, we're in a bathroom on a Preventer drop ship so this has to be a fuck. A pure simple, quick hard, fuck and he gets that.

"Ready?" he asks me.

"Always, babe."

I was kinda tempted to say that I was always ready to be fucked by him then thought I sounded like some cheesy porn star but I don't have time to think anything as he pulls out almost all the way and thrusts back in leaving me trying to maintain some sort of balance on the edge of a sink counter against the power of his hips. I decide to go for one hand, hard, in his hair, hard enough that I feel like I'm gonna rip it from his head, and the other at the edge of the sink. His hands grip my ass, helping me remain stable and close to him and making sure our bodies are crushed together. My dick feels the friction of the rough material of his fatigues and I feel the zipper of his pants as he fucks me deep, hard, fast. His head is crushed into my shoulder, his hair tickling my throat and chin as he ruts against me.

I don't need him to jerk me off and I sure as fuck can't do it as he slams hard into my prostate. He realises he's hit his mark after I make some incoherent noises and pretty much just shout "fuck" and he repeats that same motion, same damn angle and he's so goddamn fucking confident about this – that he knows every little way to fuck me and make me hot, hard, horny, _his_. Confident motherfucker.

"'Ro… shit…"

That's all the warning I give him as I feel my dick twitch onto the front of his combat gear and I grab harder into his hair as I come. The hands on my ass spasm and I hear my name on his lips as he thrusts hard, a few more deep motions that hit their mark again and I think he wants to prove his damn stamina or something. Has to be fucking Superman and last longer but then I feel him shudder against me and bingo, I know he reached his own peak. Really, he tries to be damn impressive in bed but I know ways to make him lose it. I can be a confident motherfucker too, when I wanna be.

He leans against me for a second before he slides out, pulling off the condom and throwing it down the toilet. I glance down at the camouflage print across his chest that now has been kinda... decorated in a unique way. I smirk and then reach out for his face, realising I'd barely looked him in the eye in this whole quick fuck and I see something in those deep ol' blues that I figure is why he needed this – needed _me _like this.

"This mission is gonna be fine," I say. I know that I've got a bigger role being all about the demolition and making things go kaboom so I get it. "I'm gonna be fine. Trust me, baby."

It's then he kisses me and threads his fingers through the base of my braid in some kinda reassurance thing until the knock on the damn door.

"Yuy! Maxwell! ETA five minutes."

We separate and straighten up our combat clothes and go to exit the bathroom. I figure I should say something else reassuring but instead, I just go for my usual hide behind humour defensive shit.

"Thanks for the quickie, 'Ro."


	2. Heero

**Post-Mission**

We tumbled through the locker room together, a mass of limbs and lips and lust. We're alone, preferential treatment for senior agents, everyone else is being debriefed first while we get the smaller, classier showers upstairs to ourselves. Not that I give a flying fuck about location. Duo is here. That's all that matters, that Duo is with me, and he smells of sweat and smoke and gunpowder and blood and it makes me harder than I have any right to be considering how damn close he came to death.

But Duo didn't seem to care as he separated from me, slammed open his locker, grabbed for a bag I knew contained lube amongst his ridiculous number of hair care products. We'd done this way too many damn times. He knew what I wanted and I loved him for it.

As I undressed I watched the way blood still glistened through the tear in shirt at his shoulder, fleshed ripped to hell, blood saturating the back of his shirt and now it stuck to his skin as it dried but it was just a flesh wound he'd said. Said nothing about the miss-timed bomb I was never supposed to have set and managed to nearly kill us with, the burn on his cheek from the barrel of a freshly fired gun, pressed there deliberately by a fuck who's cheek bone I bashed in as retaliation. His wound would be more debilitating, disfiguring. He would require plastic surgery. Duo was _mine_ to mark.

I watched as Duo dropped his pants, heard them hit the floor and he turned to me with a smirk, that cocky overconfident shit he always did like he was goddamn Superman and he couldn't die but then even Superman had kryptonite. And I guess that was me 'cause if I hadn't sprung that fucking trap Duo wouldn't have been forced to act prematurely to avoid my capture and fuck but I would've taken a bullet for him. He shouldn't have acted so recklessly.

"I'm going to have us reassigned."

Duo rolled his eyes and then he was pushing me back into the shower, getting tangled in the curtain, his mouth hot on mine, hot as the fucking Bolivian jungle we'd just come from.

I knew he thought I was too sensitive and I knew Une thought we worked too well together as a team even despite the personal nature of our relationship because during the mission, there was nothing else. We didn't consider each other, didn't let our relationship distract us from the goal, training overriding everything else. Our success rate was phenomenal, never lost a target yet, and so everyone put up with our shit. My driving need to cement something between us before being dumped into some fuck up where I could lose him and not be able to flinch. So all the fucking before missions in closets and bathrooms, hotel rooms, transport vehicles – everyone just turned their head and ignored it. My threat was ineffectual and he knew it. I probably would've had to quit Preventer to break us up.

"You know I don't trust anyone else to watch your back," he growled as he hit the water. It was cold at first, jarred us both but he moved in, clung to me, the heat between our bodies an inferno by comparison. Adrenaline still hummed through my veins or maybe I'd be able to stop this, that we could maybe talk seriously about this for once, figure out what we meant to each other because once we were home it was too easy to forget about that stress and pretend we didn't do this shit every other week. But with his dick aligned against mine, grinding against mine, resolve melted away and slid down the drain with the sweat and dirt and blood pooling at our feet.

Our kisses tasted like the salt water washing into our mouths from the sweat in our hair and I backed away from him a bit to look at him, the white t-shirt tinged pink with his blood, sticking to his pecs and abs, nipples hard through nearly transparent fabric. My fingers touched his cheek gingerly, maybe too soft, where the flesh had blistered in a long straight line and my lips met the mar, tongue kissing it with feather-light licks as if I could smooth it away and unmark his face.

"Ain't your _damn_ fault," Duo muttered as if he could guess every thought in my head – and maybe he could. His hands were on my hips, digging in, dragging me back towards him and I used his hands to ground me. I buried my skin against his, pressed myself so tightly against him that water couldn't pass between us. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest and the warmth of the blood flushing his body as we moved in tandem against one another.

I lapped at his neck, felt him shiver as my teeth grazed his collarbone and his name escaped my mouth with a moan that sounded thin and needy even to me. His hands gripped my ass, dug in and he kissed me, biting on my lips, sucking on my tongue, and then he pushed me back into the wall.

I let him. I needed to feel him, needed to erase all the dark thoughts in my head of every time he'd almost died because of me. But he wasn't dead, he was here, now, and very much alive and I groaned as his slickened fingers stretched me. I couldn't help the way my body responded, thrusting down against them, wanting to feel more, wanting to feel his torso locked up against my back, his hot, lithe frame over mine, holding me, embracing me – and I knew he knew it.

When he entered me he thrust in quick and hard and I tensed against the pain while it flooded through me but then it also reminded me he was there and I appreciated it. He took a moment, paused. Voice rumbling in my ear, deep with lust, telling me how fucking good I felt as his arms encircled me – strong, scarred hands stroking down my torso, mouth seeming all over my back at once.

I braced myself against the tile as he began to move. He was a good few inches taller than me now and I knew this position wasn't easy for him so I tilted my hips, trying to give him better access. His thrusts were short and powerful, each one pushing me forward until my cheek met with the wall, and then my shoulders, and my fingers curled against wet tile uselessly. I bit down on my lower lip, panted moans slipping between my teeth, and I closed my eyes. His teeth met my neck and he sucked so hard I knew it'd bruise but I didn't care. I'd finger it later, when the nightmares came, and remind myself – he's here with me. He made it.

His hand met my dick and I tried not to cry out. I reached down, threaded my fingers through his so I might hold his hand even as he jerked me off. The smack of our skin reverberated through the stall and my heart thudded in my chest and everything felt so hot. His shirt was sticking to me and his dick was rubbing me raw and I felt helpless beneath him, helpless against the fury that was Duo Maxwell.

"Come on, baby," he whispered in my ear, his breath washing over me, causing me to tremble and I moaned in response, feeling my dick swell in our hands. "Wanna feel you come." As the word fell from his lips I fell over the edge, cum washing away with water, light sparking behind my eyes as his thrusts became unsteady... but his dick kept hitting me _there_ and my body shook. I released his hand and reached behind me, grabbed his braid, twisted my fingers through the base of it to keep him close, hold him near me.

Then I felt his body tense, heard him gasp in a deep breath and his fingers constricted on my hips, pulling me up impossibly close. His whole weight sagged against me and we slid to the floor in a heap, water holding in our warmth. We kissed lazily, hands stroking skin in reaffirming gestures, binding us together again.

"I could sleep for a week," he murmured and his hand reached for mine, lacing our fingers. I laid my forehead against his and just breathed, let my aching body unwind under the hot water. I knew debrief waited for us – that we had to wash his hair, peel him out of that shirt, submit to the medical exam we'd bypassed, the couple of hours with our "superior" officers and psychologists, the walk-through of all our mistakes and the analysis of how to avoid them in the future – all the shit I hated before we could go home and fall into bed and return to some level of normalcy for a few days. Maybe. Because was it really normal when then the only way you could ever appreciate it was to come this close to losing everything every other week?

Maybe he knew what I was thinking again because he palmed my bangs out of my eyes. I blinked the water out of them, met his gaze, watched the way the water ran rivulets across his face.

"Me n' you?" he said then, barely loud enough to be heard over the falling water, bringing our hands up to kiss the back of mine. "Forever."


End file.
